


A Bingo Collection of Random Snippets

by Alobear



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14581380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alobear/pseuds/Alobear
Summary: Five short pieces to answer a bingo challenge - completing one line of my grid.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My selection turned out to be very weather-related! And I have no idea where the last one came from - it's probably best ignored...

Snowed In

The door to the cabin burst open and Jim tumbled in, just a huge, padded shape silhouetted against the white light behind him. Blair watched him from his position kneeling in front of the hearth, where a newly built fire blazed. Jim dropped the bag he was carrying, then wrestled with the door, latching it shut and leaning heavily on it. He shook his furred hood back from his face.

“It’s really coming down out there,” he said, brushing snow from the shoulders of his jacket. “I’ve no idea where this blizzard came from, but it looks like we’ll be stuck here at least a couple of days. The truck’s nearly buried already and I could barely see the cabin from only a few feet away.”

“Good job we packed plenty of supplies, then,” Blair said. “Come and get warm.”

Jim wrenched off his boots and left them by the door, shedding layers as he made his way across the room. He joined Blair on the floor and held his hands out to the flames.

“Nice job with the fire,” he said. “Now, come here, so we can conserve body heat.”

They settled themselves on the blanket before the fire, Jim’s back against the side of the couch, Blair encircled in his arms.

“I’m sorry we won’t get to do any hiking, Chief,” Jim said. “I know you were looking forward to getting out in the woods this weekend.”

Blair snuggled against the warm wool of Jim’s thick jumper. Right then, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. “I’m sure we can find other fun things to do,” he said.

Jim chuckled. “What did you have in mind?”

Blair twisted so he could look over his shoulder into Jim’s eyes, a wide grin on his face. “I was reading this paper on synaesthesia earlier in the week, and it got me thinking. Have you ever considered that you might be able to combine your senses to get even more information than you do already?”

Jim frowned. “You want to spend the weekend doing experiments?”

Blair nodded. “Sure, why not? We’ve got the time. We might as well make use of it.”

Jim sighed. “That wasn’t exactly what I envisaged when we got snowed in.”

Blair pulled Jim’s arms more tightly around himself. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later, I promise. But for now - have you ever tried to smell music?”

XXXXX


	2. Autumn

Autumn

“This is great!” Blair said, rolling down the window of the truck and letting the breeze ruffle his hair. “Beautiful scenery, great autumn weather, nothing but the open road…” He took a deep, appreciative breath and let it out on a contented sigh. “I could get used to this.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind also paying attention to the map,” Jim grumbled. “It may be beautiful out here, but these roads are narrow and the turnings are difficult to spot. We don’t want to get lost out here.”

“Relax, Jim,” Blair said. “We’ve got a while yet before we need to turn. Don’t worry, I know where we are. Why don’t you open your senses up a bit and just enjoy the surroundings? Look at the colours on those trees - aren’t they gorgeous? And the air is so fresh out here! I bet there are tons of amazing smells and sounds I can’t even begin to imagine. We really need to get out of the city more, you know?”

Blair saw Jim’s shoulder relax an iota, and a smile played on the corners of his lips.

“That’s true,” he said. “Though I don’t think you want me enjoying the surroundings too much before we get where we’re going. It would be pretty disastrous if I zone out while driving.”

Blair grinned. “Fair point. But you can probably dial up just a little on everything without too much problem. As long as you don’t focus in on just one thing, you should be okay. Slow down a bit and try it.”

“Okay…” Jim didn’t sound convinced. But the truck slowed and, a few moments later, a wide smile spread across his strong features. “Wow, you’re right! Everything’s so vibrant and alive. Back in Cascade, I’m always tamping it all down to avoid unpleasant smells or invasive sirens. But here, it feels like the natural world is actually nourishing my senses. Thanks, Chief.”

“That’s what guides are for, right? And back when sentinels guarded tribes in the jungle, the whole point was for them to be really connected to the land. They would keep all their senses primed all the time, so they would be alerted to the smallest thing being out of balance. It’s how they detected threats to the tribe, whether that was prowling predators, human dangers, or natural phenomena the village would need to be prepared for. That’s what you’re designed to do - not rattle around an artificial city, bumping up against irritants all the time.”

“That does sound pretty great,” Jim said, then sighed. “But the city is my tribe, so I guess I just have to work with what I’ve got. You’re right, though; we should try and get out here more often. Even just a few hours out in nature is going to do a world of good, I can tell.”

Before Blair could reply further, a dark shape leapt out from the trees on one side and darted across the road, right in front of the truck. Jim wrenched the wheel around, swerving violently to avoid hitting the deer, and they veered off the road. The truck came to an abrupt stop, the front fender bending itself around a tree trunk. The nourishing sounds and smells of nature were replaced by hissing steam and the stink of burnt rubber.

“You okay?” Jim asked.

“Yeah,” Blair replied.

Jim gave a groan of frustration. “So much for our relaxing trip. Maybe the natural world doesn’t like me after all.”


	3. The Rig

The Rig

The wind buffeted Blair as he carefully picked his way through the rock pools, sidestepping the larger ones and hopping from one slippery rock to another. He could hear Jim cursing behind him, the occasional loud splash telling him Jim was having even more trouble with his footing. The call had some in when they were both still asleep, summoning them to a crime scene down at the beach, but the Cascade weather was making the trip rather more of a trial than a pleasure.

Blair turned his head to call something back to Jim, but the wind caught his hair and thrust it straight into his mouth. He coughed and spluttered, fighting with gloved hands to drag the curly strands away from his lips, but they kept escaping and getting plastered back against his face. Blair shifted his stance and twisted so he was facing into the wind, letting the force of air undo what it had done. By this time, Jim had caught up with him, and steadied both of them with a hand on Blair’s shoulder.

“Okay, Chief?” he called, raising his voice, even though he was only inches away.

“Yeah, just stupid hair getting in the way.”

Jim ran his hand over his own close-cropped head. “You could always shave it all off,” he said.

Blair tried to glare at him, but turning his head only caused his hair to whip across his eyes, so the effect was rather ruined.

“How much further is it?” he said instead.

Jim peered up the beach, focusing in on something. “I can just make out the police tape,” he said. “I’m afraid it’s still a quite a way.”

Blair sighed, reached up behind his head with both hands, shoved his hair roughly inside the collar of his parka, then pulled the hood up and over to secure it in place. “There,” he said. “Problem sorted.”

Jim looked down fondly at his bundled up shape. “Reminds me of that time out on the oil rig,” he said. “Do you remember? When you nearly got washed overboard in that storm?”

This time, Blair did manage a glare. “How could I forget?” He looked over in the direction Jim had indicated they were heading. “I guess I should just be glad we’re on - mostly - solid ground for this one. Things could always be worse, I suppose.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they will be,” Jim said. “Soon enough.”


	4. Stormy Night

Stormy Night

The rain lashed down in sheets, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. There was a bright flash, almost immediately followed by a crash of thunder. Blair heard Jim cry out, and turned to see him standing on the wet cobbles, his eyes tight shut and his hands clamped over his ears. Blair hurried back and shepherded Jim onto the sidewalk. He put his hands up on either side of Jim’s face, cupping his cheeks in an attempt to ground him.

“Dial it all down!” Blair said.

He scanned the street ahead and spotted a restaurant up ahead, its lights providing an enticing glow. He bundled Jim towards the establishment and hustled them both inside. A man in an impeccable suit approached them immediately, looked them over, and correctly assumed their nationality.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said, the Italian lilt of his accent barely perceptible. “Come, sirs, sit and recover yourselves.”

Blair led a still dazed Jim to a table and helped him out of his sodden coat before divesting himself of his own. The restaurant manager graciously took the offending articles and hung them up. By the time he returned, Blair had managed to get Jim seated. He perused the menu, grimaced at the options available, and ordered for them both, hoping Jim would still be too out of it to notice what he was eating.

When the man had departed with their order, Blair turned his attention to Jim, who was blinking and shaking his head.

“Hey, man,” Blair said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now we’re out of that storm, thanks. We’re not having much luck with the weather lately, are we?”

Blair had been offered the opportunity to consult on an anthropological project in Genoa for a week, and Jim had decided to take some rare leave to accompany him. But the rain had been almost unrelenting, building up to that night’s storm, which had caught them unawares.

Jim glanced around the restaurant, noting the decor and pleasant ambience with approval.

“Good choice of venue, though, Chief. And I’m starving. What did you order for me?”

Blair chose to ignore the second half of Jim’s speech. “It wasn’t so much a choice, as the only place I could see. So, I hope it turns out to be okay.”

When the food arrived, it was hot, plentiful and covered in a delicious sauce. Blair hardly noticed what he was putting in his own mouth, so focused was he on Jim’s reaction to the food. But Jim wolfed it down with frequent noises of appreciation, much to Blair’s surprised relief.

As Jim cleaned his plate with a piece of bread, he grinned across the table at Blair.

“We should get caught out in storms more often,” he said. “That was excellent. What did you say it was?”

Safely past the point where Jim could refuse to eat it, Blair revealed, “Well, actually, this is a vegan restaurant. So, I ordered you the tofu.”

Jim nearly choked on his water. “What? Why didn’t you tell me it was tofu?”

“Because you wouldn’t have eaten it! And now I can make tofu at home whenever I want and you’ll have no basis to complain. It’s tofu all the way for us now, just you wait.”

Jim just groaned.


	5. Truth or Dare

Truth or Dare

Blair was thinking about Jim again. His sentinel was being uncooperative, as per usual.

Blair walked over to the window and reflected on his situation. He loved Cascade with its unpredictable weather, its bustling crowds, and easy access to the Washington wilderness. It was a place that reflected his own multi-faceted personality. And it was where Jim was, which could be both a curse and a blessing. Things were coming to a head, and Blair would soon need to make a decision about his future.

He fingered the beautifully painted Japanese teacup in his hands, breathing in the steam of the herbal tea, and wondered when he had become so pretentious. Actually, he admitted to himself, he’d always been a bit pretentious, but living with plain-talking, burger-guzzling Jim had brought it even more to the fore.

Blair sipped his tea, regarding his own reflection in the rain-spattered window. He knew he was contributing to Jim’s work just as much as Jim was contributing to his own, but he was starting to wonder if their relationship was really benefiting either of them on a deeper level. It could get claustrophobic sometimes, being in each other’s pockets all the time, but never actually making that one step further into greater intimacy. They were stifling each other’s ability to interact with other people, but not fulfilling their own needs either.

 

The rain hammered on the balcony, drumming in Blair’s ears. He turned away from the window to see Jim regarding him from the couch, a strange glint in his eye.

 

“Well, Chief?” Jim asked. “What’s it to be?”

Blair sighed. The time had come. He would have to make his choice.

“Dare,” he said, wondering how they had come to be playing this ridiculous game in the first place.

Jim grinned, his teeth gleaming, and seeming longer and sharper than Blair remembered.

“I dare you… To kiss me!” Jim said, his smile growing wider and more predatory. Blair stared at him, and he laughed. “You walked right into that one.”

Blair found himself rooted to the spot, as Jim rose from the couch and prowled towards him, half menacing, half sexy. Blair felt his breath speeding up, as everything he wanted slowly moved towards him with clear intent. Before he knew it, Jim was close enough that Blair could feel warm breath tickling his skin. He looked up into Jim’s eyes and saw naked desire, as Jim lowered his face until their lips were almost touching.

He opened his mouth and closed his eyes, waiting.

Nothing happened.

Blair closed his mouth and opened his eyes, only to find himself in bed, staring at the ceiling. The image of Jim standing before him, about to kiss him, was emblazoned in his brain, and he felt the physical effects of his own reaction intensely. Disoriented, he pushed his hair away from his face, feeling sweat standing out on his forehead.

What the hell had that been all about? One thing was certain. He wasn’t going to take a recommendation for unknown tea from the Japanese guy in the corner shop again.


End file.
